


Meet [M]e in the Woods

by MeetTheTank



Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: Brief depection of a panic attack, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 10:09:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13233513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MeetTheTank/pseuds/MeetTheTank
Summary: Secret Santa fic for the lovely Dreamfang who organized this whole shebang. “A2 realizes that 4S and No.4 have the same personality type.”





	Meet [M]e in the Woods

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dreamfang](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamfang/gifts).



> Enjoy and thanks for organizing our lazy asses

The first time A2 saw him it wasn't under pleasant circumstances. She hadn't been paying proper attention to her surroundings as she was too engrossed with trying to repair her sword. The more she could do on her own the less contact she had to have with other androids. With the rumors of a Yorha scouting pair in the area she had to keep an even lower profile than normal.

A2 didn't notice the other android until they were practically next to her. They stumbled into the clearing just a few yards away from her with their floating support unit in tow. The sight of their pitch black uniform embroidered with intricate white patterns immediately sets her on edge. They're a Yorha soldier, a scanner by the look of the uniform.

The two androids locked eyes for a solid minute. Both had their hands on their weapons and waited for the other to make the first move. Any possible first attack and counters to those ran through A2's mind. She could easily overpower the male android, but if he tried to hack her that would be a more difficult problem to handle.

The scanner took a step forward.

A2 bolted into the woods at breakneck speed.

It's better to avoid conflict altogether.

_________________________________________

 

The second time A2 saw the dark haired scanner was under even worse circumstances.

In truth, she didn't expect him to be alive considering the state of the bunker and most of the Yorha ground troops. In addition to those, the machine life forms had begun attacking anything that moved. Including each other. It was dangerous to even walk around without being armed to the teeth.

This apparently didn't stop the scanner from engaging a huge bipedal machine in the middle of the forest zone.

He was horribly outmatched from what A2 could see. With only one pitiful lance and no pod, the odd reptilian machine barely had a scratch on it. The scanner was a bit bulkier than 9S, probably an older model. Even still, he wouldn't last much longer on his own.

The machine reared up on its tail and bucked its legs into the scanner, his body soared across the stream and crashed against the rocks. In the time it took for him to rise to his feet the machine began to glow a bizarre purple light. The air itself crackled with energy as the machine's maw became engulfed in a raging flame.

Goddamnit, she didn't want to get involved. But if she didn't do something, this scanner was going to die.

And there had been enough senseless death recently.

A2 took a running leap and threw her whole body into the side of the reptilian machine's head. A massive wave of heat burned at what was left of her pain receptors, as a concentrated beam of blazing purple energy exploded from its mouth. The ground beside the scanner erupted in a grand explosion. He curled into himself, his hands covered the back of his neck and head for all the good it would have done.

"You okay?!" A2 called to the dark haired boy.

He scrambled to his feet, "Yeah- I mean affirmative! I am..."

He stopped when he caught sight of exactly who his savior was, "Y-You?!"

A2 wasn't sure what drove her, but she put herself between the scanner and the machine. She held her large blade in one hand, while the other reached out to the fallen Yorha.

"You're a scanner right? Can you hack?" She asked.

He pulled himself to his feet with her assistance, though with a bit of hesitation, "I'm no prodigy but yes, I can hack."

She let out a harsh sigh as another smaller sword appeared in her hand. "Just hang back and take an opening if you see it."

A number of screens flashed to life at his finger tips, "I'm not letting you do all my work for me."

"Just don't get in my way."

_________________________________________

 

In the months that followed her bizarre (and frankly, unwanted) resurrection, A2 came to a realization.

Being alone sucks.

The more time passes, the more she longs for some kind of companionship. Especially in the face of...those two. Flaunting their affections for each other out in the open like that. It was like they had no decency, or were too drunk off of each other to remember that there were others around them.

A part of her felt guilty for getting angry at them. After everything they had gone through, they deserve this at least.

That didn't mean it wasn't gross to run into them and their...recreational activities out in the field.

Hell she was even starting to miss the Pod with its constant chatter. At least it was something to talk to.

With a camp full of strangers and tense relations, she never spent much time around the Resistance save for picking up a few errands for Anemone. Stuff that would take her far away from the camp for a long time. Sometimes she'd visit Pascal in the grim husk of his village, but the mementos of what it used to be ensured she didn't stay too long.

God, she was such a hypocrite. Sick of being alone, yet actively avoiding others.

A2 comes to a small encampment by the castle in the forest zone and sets her large pack of supplies down with a thud. Well, encampment seems too generous. It's really only two tents and a few pieces of equipment scattered around. She was under the impression that there would be at least five other androids around, what with the heavy sack she had been lugging around. This place barely had enough for one.

"Uh...hello?" She calls out, "Hello?"

A stocky android with short, curly black hair shoves his way through one of the tent flaps.

"I'm here, sorry I was in the middle of- ...you?!"

He nearly leaps backwards at the sight of her. The fugitive A2, delivering his supplies. Missing skin, judgmental stare, and all.

"Is that a problem?" A2 asks in a low voice. A thinly veiled threat.

His hands shoot up, "No! No it's not a problem! It's just...the last I heard on you was that you were dead."

A2 breathes a quick, sharp laugh, "I was. Wasn't lucky enough to stay dead, apparently."

His brows furrow together as dark green eyes study her with both confusion and a hint of concern.

Huh...why does that seem so familiar to her?

"Well...come on in anyway." The scanner says, gesturing to the open tent behind him, "Oh, I'm 4S by the way."

4....

"I'm...A2."  
_____________________________________________

 

She spends more time with him than she does alone. He's quiet, if a bit stiff at times, and deceptively easy to open up to. She'll find herself wanting to talk to him, just on her own, even if he doesn't ask (and he rarely does).

He always greets her with a smile, a warm expression that dredges up memories she thought she buried. Surely he notices, scanners are built to be perceptive and such, but he doesn't act on it.

They'll spend the days exploring the forest zone or in the small camp going over data new and old. A2 fills the silence occasionally with stories of her past adventures, often at the request of 4S. Sometimes she digs herself into spilling painful memories and run off to be alone, but he'll wait for her to come back and never press her to reveal more than she wants.

She tells him about her years alone, about being hunted by Yorha. She tells him about killing 2B, and holds back tears when she tells him about what transpired between her and 9S.

The only thing she doesn't tell him about is Number 4.

_________________________________________

 

"Say, does it hurt?" 4S asks out of the blue one day, "Not having skin, I mean."

A2 opens one eye, "I have skin, just not a lot of it."

He rolls his eyes at her, "I know but, does it hurt?"

She flexes her leg, her black carbon frame glinting a bit in the fluorescent lights of the tent. "Not really. Sensors died a long time ago."

4S frowns a bit and brushes some of his hair out of his face. He had been letting it grow out a lot over the past few months, gaining more curls by the day. "That's not necessarily a good thing, you know."

"It's not like I had the time or resources to get that fixed with, you know, being hunted down."

"I could fix it now if you'd like, Miss A2" 4S says, dismissing a few screens of data, "I have the materials to make grafts on hand. It's not that difficult to do."

A2 shoots him a glare, "I told you to not call me Miss."

She idly taps at the hard, curved plates of her chest while he throws out a quick apology. It had been a number of years since she had picked those large portions of skin off for one reason or another. The fraying edges of the skin on her shoulder catches her attention, and though it doesn't hurt necessarily it still causes discomfort.

Well, if he's offering to help...

"I guess there's no reason not to." A2 says with a shrug of her shoulders.

A warm smile that sends an odd pang through her gut spreads across 4S' face. With enthusiasm that almost seems ill fitting on the normally reserved scanner, he begins to go over the materials and process to himself. A2 can't help the beginnings of a lazy grin that plays with the corners of her lips as she watches him go on and on to no one in particular.

Every so often, he has to fight with the wild mess of curly hair that obscures his vision. She has to fight back a snicker when his huffs of frustration interrupt his line of thought.

"You know, if you're gonna let your hair grow out, you should think about tying it back."  
_____________________________________________

 

When A2 awakens from maintenance mode, her artificial heart nearly stops.

In her delirium, she sees her. At least she thinks she does. A head of long, black hair, pulled back in a loose ponytail, curls bouncing lightly as she shifts about in her seat.

“Nu-...Number 4? Number 4?!”

4S whips around, startled by her sudden outburst.

“A2?! What’s wrong?!”

Reality hits A2 in the stomach with such force that she reels away from his concerned gestures. The image of the scanner and the long dead attacker model flash before her eyes with horrific rapidity.

4S’ voice is drowned out by a roar of static and alarms that warn her of an imminent overload. Sometimes he sounds like himself, albeit through layers of static and malfunctions. Other times he sounds like...her.

A2 shuts her eyes and curls into herself, hoping to ride this out just as she had many times before. Just breath in and out. Don’t listen to what they’re saying. They’re not real. Let the noise fade into the background until it’s barely noticeable.

They’re not real.

She’s not really there.

Number 4 is dead.

Don’t listen to the ghosts.

A hand rests on her shoulder, it’s presence heavy yet warm. Stable.

Familiar.

A2 calms her body just enough to force herself to look at 4S. She stutters out the fragments of sentences, each one the beginning of a different thought. Still, his hand remains on her shoulder. He even smiles a little at her, though his face is tinged with deep worry.

“It’s okay,” he says, “It’s just me.” His voice is warm and gentle, and though masculine it carries cadences and patterns far too similar to be left unnoticed.

She relaxes slightly, just enough that 4S takes that as a sign to shift a bit closer to her. When he takes her hands in one of his, she realizes that she had been clawing at the freshly done seams of her skin. Her world shifts back into focus, the voices of ghosts dispersing into the background until they were silenced completely.

A few agonizing minutes pass before A2 opens her eyes again. At first, she thinks the ghosts are still plaguing her, but she realizes quickly that those deep green eyes belong to the scanner that had been supporting her for half a year now. Just like her own, they’re made of glass and fiber optics. Things that on their own should be lifeless and dull, yet are full of life like the woods he made his home in.

They’re her eyes.

Number 4’s eyes.

He is not Number 4. He’s too quiet, not nearly bubbly enough. He prefers his data over talking with others. He’s stiff, curt, some might even go as far as to call him rude.

And yet...

It’s the unwavering support that he’s shown her in their time together that undoubtedly links him to the long dead attacker.

A2 supposes she should have realized this earlier.

Once 4S feels she has relaxed enough, he releases her hands from his solid grip. That warm, grounding smile never leaves his face as he sits on the edge of her cot.

“If you can, I’d like to know about Number 4.”


End file.
